Chocolate Milk
by Finnhart
Summary: ONESHOT. Seto underestimates the determination of the paparazzi as he commits an act of an ordinary human nature. Read and review.


**Author's Note: **Another one-shot. This is my second, trying out a new genre here. Still warming up for that big fic! I've got another oneshot on the way that has been in the works for a while, but I've got a block with it, so I don't know how long it will be before I get it posted..

**Disclaimer:** All that you recognise from the Manga/TV show does not belong to me.

**Warnings:** None

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**One Shot**

**Chocolate Milk**

It was a rare occurrence that Seto Kaiba would decide to work at home for the day. Even though he always used his laptop, with the idea that he could slog anywhere he happened to find himself, he would set up fort in his office at the KC headquarters and spend the day enjoying the Domino City breeze through his wall to wall windows and grilling Roland for never using the intercom.

But even the high and mighty just cannot be arsed sometimes. To be perfectly fair, he was _constantly_ working hard. He constantly slaved over his laptop and his coffee machine and his dueling simulator, forever honing intricate computer programmes, how finely he should grind his coffee and which cards to use against Yuugi in order to win win win.

Today wouldn't quite be like that. Today Seto would spend twenty minutes shuffling down the two floors from his bed chamber to the kitchen, grumbling with every step he took about not having any lifts installed in his manor. Mokie insisted that the exercise was good for him, but Seto seriously begged to differ. He snorted, desperately trying to convince himself that the only reason he wanted lifts in his home was for the benefit of saving time, rather than the benefit of his early morning laziness.

At last he reached his kitchen, arching his back as cricking his neck as he passed through the threshold. The kitchen was perhaps the most 'homely' part of the manor. Collectively it was the one room in the manor that both he and his brother spent the most time in, therefore it looked a little more 'lived in'. It was where the coffee machine and biscuit tins were situated after all.

_Aaaah, the coffee machine!_ Seto trilled inside his head, clenching the sleepy ache from his teeth. He hobbled over it, his bare feet making a quirky, sticky _shlop shlop_ on the polished oak floor. His placed his palms upon it, as a priest giving blessings would.

'I'd marry you, if it were legal, sweet coffee maker…'

'Morning Nii-Sama!'

Seto straightened a little too quickly, maybe pulling something in his back and certainly looking like a hot branding iron had just kissed his backside.

'Are you okay, Seto?' chirped Mokuba as he expertly slid across the floor on woolen-clad feet to stand beside his brother. He was already fully dressed and busting his seams with energy as though the day was in its ripest hour.

'I'm fine, Mokie. You just startled me that's all, still early you know –'

'Seto it's nearly quarter to eight in the morning! You always get up way earlier than that!'

Seto scowled, the clear ring of Mokuba's young, unbroken voice slicing neatly through his head. He could not handle this right now; he could not handle an onslaught of beaming, bouncing butterballs called Mokie attacking him before he'd even managed to make his first cup of caffeinated goodness. He grabbed the strainer and clicked one load of coffee into it.

'I'm working from home today Mokuba and I haven't had any coffee yet …' he ground out between gritted teeth, not at all wanting to snap at the kid but feeling his record-breaking short fuse begin to fizzle. He placed his mug of choice on the griddle and flicked the button for a double shot of espresso.

Just as he had filled a stainless steel jug with enough milk and plopped in the rim-side thermometer Roland appeared at the doorway. He looked somewhat flustered, as though he'd been rushing around looking for the pair of sunglasses that always went undetected on the top of the his head (a scenario that Seto had personally witnessed once upon a time). Seto peered at him with a curious frown as he began to froth up his milk.

'Something the matter, Roland?' he called over the roiling hiss of the machine. At that exact moment Mokuba let out an ear-piercing shriek of laughter and tore like a wildcat from the room, Roland thundering after him, gushing an incoherent apology or some-such-thing as he passed his master.

Seto blinked, adding milk and froth to his double-shot, wondering which of Roland's buttons Mokuba had already managed to push even before eight o' clock in the morning. He heard the chase reach an upper floor and decided to enjoy his coffee at the large wooden kitchen table rather than atop an uncomfortable tall stool by the chic bar.

He shifted his weight into the tie-on cushion, getting as comfortable as possible and sat back, relaxed and sipped his coffee, just the way the adverts always said. And it was good. As a matter of fact, it was _great. _It was super fantastic; it was special awesome and dripping splendidness from every pore.

_Mmmmm. _Seto sensually licked the milky froth from his upper lip as though to arouse the invisible sex goddess seated across the table from him – then shook his head violently. No sultry siren sat before him. No sultry sirens had sat before him in a long time, nor had they sat beside him, on top of him, beneath him… he scrunched his nose up and scowled, making a mental note to get laid with the next few days. He had overheard Roland telling his younger protégé Campion that if he was beginning to imagine sexy ladies at stupid times of the day in stupid places, then it was time to get good and laid again. And Seto _was_ working from home today…

He yawned widely, drained the last of his coffee and got up to search the numerous cupboards for something to eat. The only thing he could find was Mokuba's stash of overly sugary and plain unhealthy cereals. They would have to do. He poured himself a bowl of some random chocolate coated, chocolate flavoured bits of something which wasn't really chocolate but looked like it should be.

'E numbers, it's your lucky day – meet my digestive system…' Seto mumbled languidly as he splashed liberal amounts of full-cream milk into the bowl. He grabbed a silver spoon and returned to the kitchen table, taking a seat which allowed him to peer out of the window and over the vast front garden. In the distance he could see the usual gaggle of crazed fangirls flitting back and forth before the front gate. He rolled his eyes. _Pathetic dolts,_ he thought. _You'll soon be sent off, worthless bimbo bitches… _And sure enough Campion appeared from the depths of a far wing of the manor, smartly striding down the long driveway, excessively shined shoes searing in the bright morning sun. Seto rolled his eyes. That was something he got from Roland – he didn't know anyone else who shined their shoes so ridiculously, not even himself for the sake of seeing his reflection whenever he checked his laces.

From upstairs came the sound of furniture upturning and deafening footfalls. Roland shouted something and Mokuba roared with laughter. Seto smiled, inadvertently dribbling chocolate milk down his chin. He quickly wiped it away; head spinning every way to make sure no one had seen him accidentally slobber into his cereal. How utterly devastated he would be! Only mortals slobbered.

Back at the front gate there seemed to be more and more girls congregating, squealing for Kaiba and waving things around that they wanted autographed. Seto could see Campion radio for help, and soon he was joined by two other guards whose names he could never remember so simply referred to as Suit Number One and Suit Number Two. Obviously everyone had figured out he wasn't in his office today and the rumours had begun flying. _Kaiba gets seriously injured on way to work? Kaiba breaks leg attempting to save runaway pram? Kaiba concussed after falling over during stair sex?_

'Pfft,' he mumbled, lifting another spoonful of cereal to his lips. 'Oh.'

All the cereal was gone. Now he was left with a bowl of chocolate milk, and lots of it too. It looked so nice, such a sweet pick-me up to curb the sometimes distracting edge of caffeine. So damned enticing, so damned scrummy…

The din at the front gate inflated suddenly. Seto looked up and gasped. Somehow they had got in! A little gap in the gates allowed a small but steady stream of the skinnier girls into the grounds. Seto was ready to leap up to his room and close all the curtains - last thing he needed was photographs of himself in Blue Eyes White Dragon boxers and a lilac silk dressing gown splashed all over the place. He faltered as he pushed his chair back. Campion had one girl flung over his shoulder and another under his arm, Suit Number One had staunched the flow of fangirls at the gate and Suit Number Two had managed to rugby tackle one renegade who had made all the way past the oak halfway down the drive.

Seto watched for a little while longer, squinting through the sunlight. Everything seemed to be under control now. Maybe he didn't have to take refuge in his room after all. His eyes darted back to his bowl of chocolate milk, eyes glittering. His head whipped all around, checking that every coast was clear; Roland and Mokuba were still crashing around upstairs, all the cleaning maids had finished their work and had gone home whilst Campion, One and Two were busy at the front gate.

Still with paranoid caution running through him Seto picked the bowl up in his hands and brought it to his lips. He cast his eyes around for spies once more, and satisfied that there were none he parted his lips and greedily gulped down the chocolate milk. However he had underestimated the nature of the bowl's rim and the cool, sweet liquid spilled over each cheek and onto his bare chest, all over the lapels of his lilac dressing gown before dribbling down to nestle in his snazzy Blue Eyes boxers. He even managed to get some up his nostrils. He spluttered and sneezed a great noseful of chocolate milk across the table, coughing madly.

FLASH!

Seto froze.

He knew that light.

He knew that sound.

His eyes flew to the large window that overlooked the vast garden just in time to see some fat, blubbery devil of a man with a giant paparazzi camera dive into the bushes and out of sight.

'_Shit.' _

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**Author's Note:** Finished! Obviously. I didn't really check this one for typos, so I apologise if there are many, I wrote it in just a few hours when I really should have been in bed. Please Read & Review!!!!! 


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